What a Reckless Rogue Needs (12 page)

She clutched him. “Stupid m-mouse.”

“Hush now. You’ve had a fright.” She shivered again, and without thought, he caressed her spine. Eventually her trembling subsided, and he was all too aware of her soft, feminine body pressed against him. When his groin tightened, he knew he’d better put distance between them, and he reluctantly released her.

“I’m so mortified,” she said, looking up at him.

“You needn’t be.”

She looked at the mallet. “What in heaven’s name were you planning to do with that?”

“Break the lock on the trunk.”

“Oh.” She frowned and worried her hands. “I suppose we should return to the attic.”

He laughed and picked up the mallet. “Angeline, I’m fairly certain the attic is the last place you wish to go. Tomorrow I’ll bring a mousetrap or two.”

“There’s so much to do,” she said. “I feel badly for slowing our progress.”

“One day will not make that much difference,” he said. “By the way, did you find anything of value in the bedchambers yesterday?”

She hesitated. “I went through all the rooms.”

“Why are you hedging?”

“There’s a nursery,” she said.

His neck prickled. “Where is it?”

“Colin, don’t go in there.”

He set the mallet down and started opening doors. She followed him. “I’m sorry. I should have told you yesterday.”

When he opened the door to the nursery, he strode inside and immediately tore the covers off the rocker. He went over to a shelf where a tin box sat. When he opened it, a look of wonder crossed his face. “My tin soldiers. I always wondered what became of them.”

“I didn’t notice them yesterday.”

He frowned at her. “It is in plain view. Something is amiss. You might as well tell me.”

She sighed. “There is a cradle underneath the cover.”

He whipped it off. Inside was padded bedding. He felt no shock or melancholy. Only numbness.

She slipped her hand through his arm. “I hope you will forgive me. I thought to spare you.”

He patted her hand. “I understand, but I prefer to confront things.”

“Yes, I think it is for the best. Shall we return to the attic? If the mouse decides to make another appearance, I’ll let you confront it.”

He smiled a little. “Very well.”

By late afternoon, they had sorted items from five trunks. He’d found an old bagwig he was certain had belonged to his grandfather and a pair of men’s buckled shoes with heels. He thought the bust probably was his grandfather.

They put all of the items he didn’t want in crates. He planned to make them available to the tenants and servants. The mouse had evidently disappeared.

They had not discussed the miniature, but it had yet to turn up.

After he carried a crate downstairs, she looked through some correspondence she’d found. One set was tied with a blue ribbon. She pulled a letter out and saw the address to Lady Elizabeth Montleigh. She wanted very much to read it, but she ought not pry. She folded the letter, set it aside, and retrieved another from the others tied with the blue ribbon. This one was also addressed to the same woman. When she started to fold it, she saw the last line.

My darling Elizabeth, you are my heart and my love forever more.

She yearned to be loved, truly loved, but it seemed that was not to be her destiny.

Colin returned. His shirtsleeves were wrinkled and his cravat looked a bit wilted. Somehow he managed to look every bit the handsome rogue.

“You found correspondence?”

“A letter from your father to Lady Elizabeth Montleigh.”

“My mother,” he said.

She lifted her eyes to him. “I read only the last line.”

He took it and walked over to the table where the lantern burned. “I would never have guessed my father was so sentimental.”

“The letter indicates he loved her deeply,” she said. “Do you think he would want the letter?”

Colin frowned. “I’ve no idea. All I know for certain is that he left Sommerall after her funeral. I don’t remember anything except leaving here for Deerfield.” He folded the letter and set it on the table. “Two years later, he made a marriage of convenience with Margaret.”

“It may have started out that way, but I believe he loves her now.”

“He is fond of her, but I’m sure he wanted a spare heir.”

His blunt words stunned her. “Perhaps he was lonely and wanted a second chance at love.”

He considered her with a patronizing expression. “There are practicalities, including the contracts, as you are fully aware. I assure you my father’s primary concerns dealt with the marriage contracts. She brought a considerable fortune into the marriage.”

She bristled. “So do many women.”

“I’m only stating the facts, Angeline. You know the realities of aristocratic marriages, and to be frank, her father was a merchant and saw an opportunity to better his family.”

“Margaret was educated as a lady.”

“Yes, I know, but you cannot be unaware that your mother’s influence paved the way for Margaret in society.”

Angeline was breathing hard. “Do you think I give a damn?”

His eyes widened at her words.

“Margaret was one of the few ladies who came to support my mother and me during one of the worst times of our lives. Everyone else stayed away from fear of contamination from my scandal.” Angeline wiped tears from her face. “She is one of the kindest ladies I have ever had the pleasure to call friend. And she deserves far more credit than you give her. She wants only to please others and believes herself undeserving because her father was in trade. She is your father’s wife and the mother of your sisters. You should respect her.”

“I do not disrespect her,” he said testily. “I only stated the truth.”

“You just did.”

“Angeline, you are unreasonable.”

“Well, we cannot all be as perfect as you,” she said.

“The sarcasm is unwarranted.”

Her face heated. She marched out of the attic. How dare he speak so coldly about Margaret? He was a rake and yet he thought himself above everyone. She thought him a hypocrite and wouldn’t be surprised if he had notches on his bedpost. Horrid man.

His rapid footsteps echoed behind her. She hurried her step, but he caught her arm. “Stop,” he said.

She glared at him. “I agreed to help you because I thought you deserved the opportunity to prove yourself, but I will not aid and abet you when you have so little respect for your family.”

He opened a bedchamber door. “Come inside. Agnes is cleaning the banister, and I don’t want her to hear us.”

She followed him inside and turned to him. “You are judgmental.”

His nostrils flared. “
I
am judgmental? You judge me unfairly, my lady. All I did was state the facts, but you presume to know my feelings about my own family.”

“What was I to think when you spoke in such a cold manner about Margaret? The circumstances of your father’s second marriage do not matter. Your father adores her, as well he should. She brought happiness and light into your father’s life after your mother’s death. But for reasons I do not understand, you hold yourself aloof from your own family.”

“You know nothing about it.”

He’d said he was selfish, and she certainly believed it now. “You have not been home since last Easter. Your sisters are growing up without even knowing their brother, and I suspect you resent Margaret.”

“I don’t resent her, but we are not close and never have been.”

How could he be so unfeeling? “Whose fault is that? You make no effort.”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe she was the one who didn’t make the effort?”

She shook her head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I think it is ridiculous to expect it of an eight-year-old.”

“What?” He’d shocked her.

“My father started a second family while I was away at school. I did not even know about it until he brought me home from Eton for Christmas holidays. He told me I had a new mother, but I was eight years old and didn’t even know how to address her. Was I to call her Stepmama or Margaret? No one ever thought to tell me for days.”

“I cannot believe it of her or your father.”

“I have no reason to lie about it. I lived it—you didn’t.”

“How could it be possible? Margaret is too kind to ignore a child.”

“She didn’t ignore me, but she was not my mother, and I wasn’t her son.”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“It happened long ago, but it is clear to me now why it was so awkward. She was educated as a lady, but there is a big difference between that education and learning the distinctions of society. I can imagine how difficult it was for her to assimilate. She had to have been terrified. Have you never stopped to think about why she relies so much on your mother?”

“They are friends.”

“Yes, but that friendship likely came about because your mother saw the need to help her. In those early days, she was much younger and probably overwhelmed and intimidated.”

“You were a child. How could you know?” she asked.

“I remember when several ladies called when we were in London. I was probably eight or nine years old. After they left, I saw Margaret sitting in the drawing room weeping.”

Angeline smoothed her skirt. “I had no idea.”

“We were born into this world, but she had to learn. On top of it all, she had to deal with an unhappy stepson.”

Angeline winced, realizing she’d made assumptions without knowing all the particulars. “Please forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive. It was just circumstances. I spent most of my time at school and half my summers with Harry at his uncle’s pig farm,” he said. “I was happy there and for the most part at school as well, but over time, my relationship with my family grew increasingly distant. I adore my sisters, but they are half my age. I’m glad my father found happiness with Margaret, but their lives went on and so did mine. No one is to blame. It was just the situation.”

Angeline felt awful. “I’m sorry for misjudging you.”

He scuffed his boot on the carpet. “You weren’t wrong. I was resentful for many years. I felt as if I did not belong. Undoubtedly it was an erroneous perception on my part.”

“I think it would be difficult for all involved when there are such drastic changes to a family,” she said.

“When I arrived at Deerfield, I was shocked at how much my sisters had grown.” He paused and said, “I should make more of an effort.”

“I am sorry. I have no right to judge anyone when I’ve made grievous mistakes.”

“Regardless, you didn’t deserve to be treated so ill.”

“I am responsible.”

“You mustn’t blame yourself,” he said.

She deserved no sympathy. From the beginning, she’d been suspicious of Brentmoor, as any sane and virtuous woman would be, but she’d let vanity and pride overcome her judgment. All because she knew others were whispering about her single status at the ripe age of thirty. She’d not heeded her mother’s warnings about waiting too long to marry, and she’d paid dearly for it.

“It’s not your fault,” he said.

If she’d married sooner, she could have avoided her mistakes. “I take responsibility, but it is not enough,” she said. “There is nothing I can do to change it.”

“No, but you can go forward. Don’t let him ruin your life.”

He didn’t understand. She could never reconcile what she’d done to her family.

Breakfast the next morning

C
olin finished his baked eggs, sausages, and roll. He drank his tea and smiled at Angeline. “I’m anxious to get started for the day.”

“I look forward to it as well,” she said. “I plan to take an apron so that I can help you in the attic again.”

“In the attic?” Margaret said. “I had no idea you were working in the attic.”

Wycoff frowned. “Angeline, such a task is beneath you. Let the maid do the work.”

“She will not know what is valuable and what is not. There is much to do, and I’m determined to be useful.”

Colin was glad to see her in much better spirits this morning, but after his conversation with his father yesterday, he wanted to make sure Wycoff knew they would preserve the proprieties. “The maid will be there at all times and will perform tasks as directed.”

Ames entered the breakfast parlor before his father could reply. “My lord, Mr. Faraday has arrived. I’ve installed him in the anteroom.”

The marquess set his cup aside. “I’m ready, Ames. Send him to my study in ten minutes.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Colin, I will send for you after I conclude my meeting,” the marquess said.

He’d wanted to leave as soon as breakfast ended. What the devil did his father want now? There was nothing for it. He would have to cool his heels and hope that his father’s first meeting did not take too long.

“Angeline, you will join us in the drawing room until Colin is ready to depart,” the duchess said.

While everyone else filed out, Colin and Angeline lingered for a few moments.

“I’d hoped to leave sooner,” he said.

“I will count the minutes until I can put my needle aside,” she said. “Patience is not one of my virtues.”

“At least my father knows I’m serious about the property.”

“Perhaps by the end of the week, we will have something to show for our efforts. Your father will have no doubt you intend to transform Sommerall.”

He appreciated her belief in him, but there was something in her attitude that troubled him. Colin wondered how much her father’s neglect had wounded her. Whatever had happened to her, he didn’t believe it was hopeless. She’d been engaged to a rotten man and ought to be applauded for having the good sense to end it. Good God, her father was a duke. Surely his influence could have turned matters around, but he did not know the particulars.

Obviously, she’d not known the man’s bad character. But Wycoff must have known. Why had he given his blessing?

Chances were he would never know. Perhaps that was for the best.

Forty minutes later, after a footman summoned Colin, he strode to his father’s study and knocked on the door.

“Come in and shut the door, please,” the marquess said.

He took a chair in front of his father’s desk.

“I will get to the point,” the marquess said. “Mr. Faraday is very interested in the property, even though he understands it needs a great deal of work.”

His father’s words stunned him.

“I daresay you thought I had invented the offer in an attempt to force you to find a wife. Am I correct?”

He briefly considered prevaricating and then decided to be honest. “It crossed my mind.”

“Mr. Faraday is aware of your concerns about your mother’s mausoleum, and as such, he is willing to make a higher offer as recompense, but there is another property that interests him.”

He gripped the arms of the chair hard. “There isn’t enough money in the world to compensate.”

“I am not insensible to your feelings on the matter, but there is something important I wish to ask you. You need to be honest with me.”

“Very well.”

“Sommerall was always intended for you, but I could not bring myself to step inside the house. At one point, I considered selling because I knew it needed attention. Yesterday was the first time I’ve been in the house since your mother’s death. I loved her dearly, God rest her soul, but life went on. It was Margaret who convinced me to keep the property for you. She has always blamed herself for your estrangement from our family.”

He swallowed hard, remembering his conversation with Angeline about his family. Yet, his stepmother was the one who had convinced his father not to sell. “It was not her fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” he said. “Are you planning to occupy the property? That means marriage, because I know you won’t do it when you’re single.” He folded his hands on his desk. “I don’t want to hear excuses or promises that you will wed in a few years. I have an offer, and I need you to tell me the truth. Are you willing to find a wife soon and reside at Sommerall?”

“You gave me six weeks to find a bride,” he said. “Will you rescind that decision?”

“No, I made it in good faith. Faraday understands that it will not be available until then, but again, it is not the only one he is considering,” the marquess said.

His temples ached. “You asked for honesty. I don’t want to rush the decision and find out too late that I’ve made a mistake. It is for life. I need more time.”

“Time is the one thing I cannot grant you. I previously told Faraday the property would be available in six weeks. That is what we agreed upon.”

Bloody hell. “I will occupy the house, but I need five months to find a bride. The season will open, and I will begin a serious search for a wife. I believe it is a reasonable compromise.”

“No doubt you mean to do as you say, but I know what will happen when you return to London. You will fall back into your old ways with your reckless friends. You will drink to excess, gamble, and chase lightskirts. You may even consider settling down—someday in the future. Like every bachelor in the world, you are convinced that your life will end as you know it. And it will—for the better.”

He had to bite back a sarcastic remark.

“If you’re not serious about wedding and occupying the property, tell me now.”

He flexed his hands. “I’m not inclined to make spur-of-the-moment decisions.”

“Why wait? You either know you will decline or accept.”

“This is a lifetime decision and I wish to think it over carefully.”

“You’re stalling,” the marquess said.

He gripped the arms of the chair in an effort to control his reactions. “Call it what you will, but I want the entire six weeks.”

The marquess rose. “Very well. Our meeting is concluded.”

Colin stood.
Damn you, I will not give up without a fight.

Colin’s expression was as grim as the overcast sky.

Angeline kept silent as he escorted her to the carriage. Clearly his meeting with his father had not gone well.

“My father instructed me to take Agnes up in the carriage, but she’s sitting beside John.”

“She will feel more comfortable keeping John company.” More important, Angeline knew Colin was angry, and he needed to air his grievances.

After they boarded the carriage, he sat with his back to the horses and knocked his cane on the ceiling. Minutes later, it rolled off. She was tempted to ask him what had transpired, but he turned his attention to the window.

When the carriage turned onto the main road, he sighed. “I beg your pardon. I ought to have called off the journey to Sommerall, but I could not bring myself to stay at Deerfield for the remainder of the day. I should have informed you that I must call off all further efforts, but I knew that would cause a stir.”

“Sit with me so that I don’t have to raise my voice,” she said.

He moved over to her bench.

“Do you wish to tell me what happened? If not, I will understand.”

“My father met with the man who is very interested in the purchase of Sommerall. The marquess will honor the six-week agreement we made. At the end of that time, he will sell to Faraday if the man chooses it over the other one he is considering.”

“Surely he’s not serious.”

“Yes, he is very serious. We agreed I would give him my decision, one way or the other, in six weeks.” He blew out his breath and laughed without mirth. “I actually considered going to London and choosing the first lady who crossed my path, but I can’t do it. I should have told my father no immediately. His demands are impossible. Now I must reconcile myself to losing Sommerall.”

“He ought to trust you. You are his only son.”

“Isn’t trust earned?” he said.

His cynical expression stunned her. “What do you mean?”

“There are reasons my father doesn’t trust me. Make no mistake. I had no intention of attending the house party, and he knows it. The only reason I made the journey was because my father informed me in a letter that he meant to sell Sommerall.” He met her gaze. “I would never have traveled here otherwise.”

“Not even to see your family?”

A hard look came into his eyes. “Do you want the truth or do you want the fairy-tale version?”

She laced her gloved fingers and stared at her hands. “You wish to persuade me you care nothing for your family.” She met his gaze. “But I have seen your affection for your sisters. I do not deny you have a bad reputation, but I do not believe you are quite as wicked as you wish me to think.”

“I’ll not argue degrees of wickedness,” he said, “but you know to be wary of a man like me.”

She wondered if his words about himself were meant to push her away. “The marquess is a wealthy man,” she said. “He has no urgent reason to sell.”

“Of course he does,” Colin said. “Look around you. It’s a miracle the place is as sound as it is, but eventually neglect will take a toll.”

“I understand, but what difference will five months make to him? None. But for you, it is crucial. Marriage cannot be undone, at least not without scandal. He should give you a chance.”

He leaned his elbows on his knees. “I’ve given him reason to mistrust me.” He sighed. “I am sorry to have misled you today. If you wish, I can stop the driver and turn back.”

He looked defeated. “We will continue on,” she said. “Because there is something we can do with the time allotted to us. The house party will not conclude for another three weeks. We will search through every trunk and every box until we find your mother’s miniature.”

“It may not turn up.”

She set her hand on his sleeve. “No matter what happens, we will make every effort.” At least he would know that he’d tried, although there was little comfort in it.

He nodded. “It’s bound to be in one of those infernal trunks. I have little time to find it.”

She prayed that it was in one of the trunks. He would take it hard if they never located it.

They worked tirelessly in the attic. Colin set the paintings of his grandparents aside, along with one of his father. Angeline found one of him holding a puppy. “I love this one of you.”

“Ah, Spotty,” he said. “He was a good dog.”

“How old were you in this portrait?”

“I don’t know.”

“I can tell it is you.”

“No, you cannot,” he said.

“Of course I can. I would know those curls anywhere.”

He laughed. “I used to go along for the shooting with my father and grandfather. Spotty would fetch any birds they hit, which wasn’t very often. Our fathers are truly the worst shots in England.”

She laughed. “Was there a portrait of your parents?”

“These are the only ones I’ve found. The others are probably stored at Deerfield.”

He’d saved only a few items in one trunk, including the correspondence they’d forgotten to take yesterday after their heated exchange.

He opened another trunk and said little as he piled crates high with pewter dishes, clocks, bottles, candles, sheets, brushes, shaving accoutrements, soap, and old clothing. There was more, but it all seemed like a blur to her. The detritus of another lifetime filled the room.

When Agnes entered the attic much later, Angeline stood and realized her arms were a bit sore from the work. She removed her gloves and addressed Agnes. “Have you finished cleaning the furnishings in the bedchambers?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“You might as well take your meal with John.”

“I took the liberty earlier. Didn’t want to disturb you, my lady.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Agnes.”

“If it pleases you, I’d be glad to test the range in the fireplace. I found sand for the floor.”

Angeline blinked. “Sand?”

“Yes, my lady. It’s for catching any sparks and preventing fires.”

She was a scullery maid and would know such things. Angeline looked at Colin. “Do you have any reservations?”

He opened another trunk. “Agnes, I presume you have experience?”

“Yes, my lord. It’s my job to start the fire in the kitchen and fireplaces at Deerfield.”

Colin dusted his hands. “Ring the bell if there’s a problem, even a minor one. Safety first.”

“Yes, my lord.” She bobbed a curtsy and left.

“That will save us the bother of bringing Cook here,” Angeline said.

Colin took out his watch. “It’s after two o’clock. You must be starving.”

She smiled. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, this is hard work,” he said. “I fear this is a fool’s errand.”

“I disagree,” she said. “You found portraits, and the items in the crates will find good homes. We will find the miniature. It’s bound to be here somewhere.”

His smile faded. “There are only two trunks left.”

She must keep positive for his sake. “Well, we just haven’t rummaged in the right trunk yet.”

He sighed. “Let’s repair to the breakfast parlor. I don’t want you to swoon from hunger.”

She scoffed. “I’ve never swooned in my life, and I do not plan to start now.”

He put his hands on his hips. “And deprive me of rescuing you?”

“No doubt it has escaped your notice, but I’m not one of those dainty, petite ladies. You’re likely to put your back out.”

A devilish gleam entered his eyes as he advanced on her. “You think I’m too weak to pick you up?”

“Do not be ridiculous.”

“You say that frequently,” he said, cornering her.

“Stop that nonsense. I’m hungry.”

He caught her by the waist. She squeaked when he put her over his shoulder. “Put me down.”